


Warmth

by Yuki_S20



Series: On Snakes and Coffee Shops [1]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cannon Divergence, F/M, I'm Bad At Tagging, Kinda just fluffy comfort, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Pre-The Cursed Child, Snape lived!, There'll be romance eventually, honestly there's not really romance yet, probably, the slowest of burns, think like a year after the battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-05
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-11-12 13:19:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18011645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuki_S20/pseuds/Yuki_S20
Summary: Severus Snape survived the Battle of Hogwarts and had decided to go into hiding in the muggle world due to many wizards still hating him even after it was revealed that he was on their side the entire time. Not that he cared really.The reader runs a small coffee shop by herself. Severus Snape has become her most frequent visitor.The two know nothing about each other or the pain they've endured but maybe they can find comfort in each other.





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> Brief context because I just realized that not everyone may remember. Voldemort murdered Lily and James Potter on Halloween. That's all, enjoy!

This wasn’t the first time you had seen him. Far from it, actually. He came in most days. He always walked in quiet as a fox, you probably would have missed him if not for the bell, and went to the same chair. One of  the padded ones by the fireplace with the little table between them. He never spoke more than necessary. Only ordering a coffee, black. Much like the his appearance. Black hair, hanging down loosely, quite the contrast to his pale skin. A black long sleeve shirt with dark, but not quite black, trousers. And a long rather warm looking coat that he always took off before sitting down. 

He always carried a satchel with him as well.  He would pull out a new book and sit there sipping his coffee for hours turning idly through the pages. When he ran out of coffee you’d always make sure to refill it before he noticed.

At some point before the evening rush he would disappear, leaving more than enough money for his coffee and a tip on the table beside his empty mug.

You can’t say when, but at some point you had started looking forward to the stranger’s visits. It was ridiculous really. After all, you’d never spoken more than a few works to him and him to you. But he had become a constant presence in your life. A symbol of reassurance, reassurance that your business was doing well, that even without his help you were doing fine, that what the two of you had built together wouldn’t crumble and fall apart now that he wasn’t here.

So obviously, it bothered you when he stopped coming. Well, it had only been two days, and it was Halloween. He was probably just visiting family. But still, you couldn’t shake the disturbing thought that he might never come back. Which again, was silly. You shouldn’t miss a man you never even learned the name of.

Chidded yourself, you got back to work tidying up around the shop. There was still fifteen or so minutes until closing but the little shop was empty, probably due to all the parents being busy getting dragged around town by their young children in colorful costumes. Even the college students that showed up all throughout the day right up until closing were absent at some party using the time to catch up on lost sleep. Only five minutes left now, you were huddled close to the fireplace warming your cold hands.

The bell rung, you made a split second decision, “Sorry we’re just about to-” you stopped short when you saw who it was.

He was standing awkwardly in the doorway, seeming unsure of himself for the first time since you had seen him. His eyes were slightly red, dressed with dark bags as if he hadn’t slept in days, and his clothes were slightly rumpled. Your gaze softened, he looked like he had been to hell and back. “Come on in, cup of coffee I presume?”

“If you’re closing just say so and I’ll go. Wouldn’t want to be a bother,” his voice was rough and quiet, but still stern. As if he would be able to tell if you lied to him, like a teacher trying to catch a student in the midst of cheating on an exam.

You decided to ignore what he said, “I’d recommend sitting near the fire, heat went out a few days ago and no one will come in to fix it until after the holiday.” You had your back turned to him, bustling around your kitchen area, brewing a fresh cup of strong dark coffee and something a bit sweeter for yourself, but you could hear him set his coat down and settle into his chair. When the drinks were done you brought them over and set his on the table before curling up in the chair on the other side of the table, both facing the fire. 

Neither of you said anything. But the quiet wasn’t awkward. He seemed so lost in thought that it felt wrong to interrupt him. So you didn’t.

When he finally did speak it was even quieter than when he spoke in the doorway, “Thank you.”

It was only two words. Two measly words that you heard a million times a day. But when he said them joy bloomed like a flower in your chest, spreading a warm feeling of contentment. You shifted your gaze to him and smiled, trying to reflect the warmth you felt, “Anytime.”

And you truly meant it. In that moment you realized that if this strange mysterious man showed up in the middle of the night or the quiet hours of the early morning when the birds were waking and asked for entrance you would give it to him without hesitation.

You knew that should have scared you.

But it didn’t. You welcomed the feeling. You hadn’t felt this close to someone since your before your brother had passed away nearly a year ago during a fight. A terrible, terrible fight. You hadn’t been able to help him then. Only stand by and watch as he fell. You didn’t want to ever let that happen again.

“Listen,” you started quietly, not entirely sure of where this was going or if he was even listening. “I know we don’t know much about each other, I don’t even know your name, but if you ever want to talk. About anything. Anything at all. Or even if you don’t want to, if you just need a quiet place to sit with a decent cup of coffee and a warm fire to sort out your thoughts, my door will always be open.” 

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You weren’t sure why you felt the need to say something like that to a complete stranger but you had. He probably thought you were some weirdo now and would never come back. Your cheeks were burning but you stubbornly chalked it up to the fire, not the fact that you had just preached unnecessarily to a stranger and made him think you were a complete nut job.

“Severus,” his voice jolted you out of your slowly spiraling thoughts.

“Excuse me?” you asked politely trying to recover from your embarrassment.

“My name, it’s Severus Snape. You wanted to know, right?” you met his gaze, the light of the fire shrouded half of his face in shadows that seemed to make the scarring on his neck stand out more. But also revealing the slight uptick of his lips. It was the closest to a smile you had ever seen on his weary face. He looked so tired despite the fact that he couldn’t have been that much older than you.

His name, however, sounded eerily familiar but you couldn’t place it. You had probably served a customer with a familiar name. Disregarding the feeling, you met his almost smile with a bright one of your own, “Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Snape.”

“Just Severus will do fine.”


End file.
